


In the Place to Be

by crankybossiplier



Series: Sometime, In Another Life [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Frances Laurens was p awesome hokay, Gen, Transgender Philip Hamilton, Trying to figure out the 21st century, it's mainly in regards to Philip, please read the note at the beginning!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 00:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankybossiplier/pseuds/crankybossiplier
Summary: Frances Acosta never expected to be a reincarnate. It was just her, her parents, and her little sister all living in a simple household in New York City – nothing out of the ordinary.Until, it wasn’t quite so ordinary anymore.Or, Frances has her Revelation.





	In the Place to Be

**Author's Note:**

> heyoooooo 
> 
> look, I can write actual fics! yay! I think?  
> so, this is just something I wanted to write in regards to Frances Laurens and her Revelation, and how I want Revelations to work in this verse. not just, "boom, have these memories, you're a reincarnate lol", just bc I thought this would be more interesting. 
> 
> for those of you who have been following the main story, "Sometime, In Another Life", you'll already have a bit of background on Frances and Philip. in this verse, Philip Acosta (aka Philip Hamilton) is transgender, and this story is set before he comes out. their Abuela's name is Nathalia, and when Philip was born he was named Natalie after her. just so y'all know. Frances is not purposely misgendering Philip! she doesn't know that Philip is, well, Philip yet! don't hate on my girl Fran hokay
> 
> I wrote this at 12am so I'm sorry if none of this makes sense lmao. 
> 
> I'm planning on writing more for the other characters! stories about their revelations and other little spin-offs :)
> 
> enough from me, I hope you enjoy!

Scientifically speaking, nobody is quite sure how reincarnates exist. How someone can be infused with a soul of someone that has already been born, lived, and died, was beyond comprehension even for the most open-minded of philosophers. In the beginning, nobody really believed that reincarnates were telling the truth. But as more began to spring up, the world began to accept the fact that reincarnates were real, and that was that.

Frances Acosta never expected to be a reincarnate. It was just her, her parents, and her little sister all living in a simple household in New York City – nothing out of the ordinary.

Until, it wasn’t quite so ordinary anymore.

Frances had overheard a conversation in one of her classrooms. She hadn’t meant to overhear, but somehow she became tuned into the conversation instead of her English work ( _damn the English language_ ). One of their classmates had a father who was in the military, and someone had found out the reason of him not being in school – his father had been killed in action.

Frances froze. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but this sent a chill down her spine and ice into her stomach. Her mouth went dry. She felt sick. Abruptly she rose from her seat, the chair toppling over, and she bolted out of the classroom to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilets.

After she’d splashed her face with water, she studied herself. Why had that made her physically sick? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known someone who had died – her Abuelo had only died a few years before, and she was at his bedside when he passed. So what was it? She racked her brain for something, _anything_ , that could hint to why this happened. She could think of nothing.

Her sleep that night was fitful. She tossed and turned, breaking out into random sweating and panting. She even cried. Then, all at once, she stopped. Somewhat calmly, she opened her eyes and sat up in bed. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. Where was she? She looked around for a candle to light, but found nothing. Silly – who doesn’t bring a candle into the bedroom in case they wake up in the middle of the night?

She slipped out of the odd bedclothes and looked down, squinting in the dim light. Her eyes bulged when she realised she was not in her normal bedclothes; why, she was wearing men’s clothes to bed! Who dressed her like this?

She stood up, but lost her balance and stumbled. She flung her arms out to break her fall, but still landed with a loud _thud_. Fantastic, now anyone else in the house was most likely awake and aware of her presence. She still didn’t know where she was.

There was the sound of footsteps, and she froze. The door opened with a squeak, and the room was suddenly filled with bright light. She flinched back, covering her eyes.

Someone giggled. “Sorry, sis.” It was a girl’s voice. Sis? Sister? She didn’t have any sisters. She blinked a few times and adjusted her eyes to the light. How did this girl light the room so fast? She looked up to see who had entered the room. It was a small girl with dark, curly hair sitting around her shoulders. She was also wearing what looked like men’s bedclothes. “You okay?” Her accent was strange – not quite American, but not entirely foreign either.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice breaking a little and she stopped. This was not her voice. Her voice did not sound like this. The girl tilted her head a little. “Please excuse me, but exactly where am I?”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something, hermana?”

Had she? No, she did not feel any pain. “No, thank you, I’m just confused. Who are you?”

The girl blinked in surprise, then something akin to realisation and understanding flooded her face. “Oh!” she said, coming forward and sitting down in front of her. “My name is Natalie. Natalie Acosta. What’s your name?” Natalie looked kind enough.

She adjusted herself so she was sitting on her legs. “Frances. Frances Laurens Cunnington.”

Natalie held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Laurens. Can I call you Frances?”

Frances nodded. “Yes, that is fine.” Natalie beamed. “Where am I?”

“Okay, so, funny story.” Natalie rubbed the back of her neck. “Have you ever heard of reincarnation?”

Frances nodded again. “Yes, I have.”

“Well,” Natalie began. “To put it plainly, you’ve been reincarnated. The body you’re in now is my sister, Frances Acosta. It’s the twenty-first century.”

“Are you serious?” Frances asked.

Natalie nodded. “Totally serious. I don’t know if you know this, but when someone has what’s called a Revelation, the person they were in their last life kinda takes over their body for a bit. There’s no set time on how long it lasts, but it’s usually only a few days to a couple weeks. Soon enough you and my sister’s memories will begin to coexist, and my sister will wake up and everything will be fine!”

“I see.” Frances thought about this for a moment. “So, once the memories coexist, as you put it, your sister will wake up in her body and I will cease to exist?”

Natalie shook her head. “No, you won’t cease to exist. My sister _was_ you, and she’ll have your memories for as long as she lives.” She bit her lip. “And, well, you’re kind of… dead? And your soul is the same soul as my sister’s soul, so… I don’t know. I’m not a reincarnate, or if I am, I haven’t had my Revelation yet, so I’m not entirely sure how it works.”

Frances looked down at the floor. She ran her hands over the rough carpet. “How am I here?”

“Like I said, the Revelation. It’s normally triggered by something and then the Revelation happens during sleep, but I don’t know what it could have been.” Natalie looked deep in thought for a moment. “Frances mentioned that one of her classmates had lost her father in a war.” Natalie looked up. “Does that ring any bells?”

Frances’ shoulders fell. “Yes.” Yes it does. “My father died fighting in the revolution.” John Laurens. The father she’d never met; the father she’d been proud of. The father who had never written her a letter; the father who had helped end the war. The father who hadn’t really loved her mother; the father whose money she’d fought endlessly to get back. Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens.

Natalie’s eyes widened. “The revolution? Like, the American revolution against the British? George Washington revolution?” She had unconsciously began leaning forward.

Frances smiled a little. “Yes, that’s the one. I was born in 1777.”

Natalie sat back again. “Whoa.” Frances huffed a little laugh, and chose to look around at her surroundings. It was utterly strange, being in the body of someone in the twenty-first century. Natalie followed her gaze, and grinned. “Okay, so let me tell you a bit about how we live nowadays.”

 

Frances had met the parents of Natalie and… well, herself, she supposed, and they had been quite gracious to her. They had cooked her meals and found clothes that Frances felt comfortable enough in. Not having to wear a corset was certainly an odd and – if she were being completely honest – very nice change, but the dresses were a little too blowy for her taste. So she dressed in pants and a shirt, and learned her way around the strange women’s underwear.

Natalie had showed her around the modern New York City, and she met Frances’ and Natalie’s friends, of whom there were quite a few: Anastasia Leroy, an immigrant from France; William Miles, an immigrant from Ireland; Theodora Buchanan, who only went by Theo, was perhaps the most surprising. She was somewhat dark-skinned, but not like the slaves her grandfather had owned. She called herself an Aboriginal Australian, the native people of the country Australia (Frances remembered that the British had colonised this country just before the revolution), and her parents had moved to America for a work opportunity. But despite her dark skin, she was treated no different from any other person. Frances smiled at that – perhaps her father’s essays had done some good.

But then again, she noticed that the skin of Frances Acosta and her family was not quite white either – Natalie had explained that their family were immigrants from Puerto Rico, an island in the Caribbean.

About five days later, Natalie mentioned a few little things she did, having taken notice of phrases or actions. She said that it was “a very Frances thing” to do or say.

Frances Acosta woke up in her own body and mind the next day. She didn’t move for a bit, soaking in the fact that she now had a full life’s worth of memories, experiences and feelings to go along with her own fifteen years of memories. It was an interesting thing to experience. She knew how Frances Laurens felt about her life, but what about Frances Acosta? How did she feel about the life she had lived before this one? She sighed, for she had so much to think about. But for now…

She sat up and popped her back, flipping back the covers and padding out to the kitchen. Her parents were at the table eating breakfast and reading the news, and Natalie was bopping along to a tune on the radio. They all looked over as they heard her enter.

Frances leaned against the doorway, crossed her arms over her chest and looked at her little sister. Natalie looked right back at her, smiling. Frances raised an eyebrow.

Natalie’s beam was like the sun. “ _Bienvenido, hermana_.”

**Author's Note:**

> *clappy emojis* immigrants!
> 
> thanks for reading! comments and kudos are loved <3


End file.
